Eternal Efflorescense
by VampireSomeday
Summary: Nothing is more powerful than love, even death. And this love is go great that it refuses to be forgotten. DMxHG One-shot. Short and sweet.


_Eternal Efflorescence_ Morgan Ferone

**A prompt generator I use occasionally challenged me to write something including: a shipyard, a gravedigger, a watering can and a windy day. I ignored everything except for the gravedigger. I hope you enjoy and reviews are always welcome. **

If he had been closing his eyes, or if he hadn't known any better, the young gravedigger would have mistaken his location for a blistering desert. The small hilltop cemetery seemed to be within reaching distance of the sun itself. The gravedigger could see only scorched countryside in every direction. Nothing had been spared from the harsh heat or unending drought that had tortured the area for the entire spring and summer.

He had been slaving away at the cracked, dry, earth for almost two hours and he had little to show. Doing things in the heat seemed to take twice as long as they would in normal conditions. This grave was going to take all day; he wished he had bothered to get an early start. He also cursed himself for not remembering to bring anything enough to drink. What water he hadn't guzzled down in the first ten minutes had evaporated at an unnatural rate.

An hour later, his clothes were soaked with sweat, but at least the grave had reached the proper length and width. All that was left was to make it about three feet deeper. As he reached for his shovel, something caught the gravedigger's eye.

It was a patch of color in the distance, standing out boldly against its brown, lifeless surroundings. It was hot enough for the gravedigger to wonder if he was imagining things. Jumping on an excuse to procrastinate, he went to investigate.

A short walk from the edge of the cemetery, one white marble headstone stood alone. After closer inspection, he realized that a man and woman were actually buried there together. The gravedigger had never noticed this grave in the entire year he had worked on that hill and its occupants had been dead for three years. Surrounding the headstone, there were three rings of flowers, each a perfect circle. Every color the gravedigger had ever seen was represented, even a few colors he had never seen on a flower before. Some of the shades didn't seem natural for flowers or even nature in general, like neons or metallics. What made the array even more diverse, was that there was no more than two or three flowers were the same type. Orchids, lilies, roses, mums, carnations, tulips, exotic flowers that he couldn't name, and more all circled the grave. Every flower was proudly alive despite the heat and obvious lack of moisture in the soil. Planting that many flowers went above and beyond the normal mourner's dedication.

The gravedigger read that the death dates for the two were the same, June 13th 1998. He realized that day was exactly three years ago. Whoever had come to honor the anniversary of their death must have had come early in the morning, and finished before he arrived. The gravedigger smiled at the sentiment, admired the flowers for a second longer, then headed back to work.

He arrived at the cemetery just as the service was ending the next day. It was time to finish yesterday's project. He had dug a hole, now it was time to fill it. Filling a grave was an easy job, but this gravedigger took it seriously. He believed that callously dumping the dirt over the coffin was disrespectful; considering it wasn't that hard to lightly shovel it back in.

The flowers that had been laid around the headstone and on top of the coffin were all white roses. He was reminded of the rainbow of flowers from the previous day. He looked out towards the grave, but all he could see was a barren hill.

Locating the white headstone took a few minutes, since there wasn't a single flower to mark the area. The surrounding ground was smooth and undisturbed, so it didn't look as if the flowers had been removed. He couldn't find the base of any stems, in case they had been chopped away, and there were no wilted remains. The flowers seemed to have simply evaporated.

The gravedigger was puzzled. He couldn't fathom what happened to the flowers that had stood so impressively earlier. As he shoveled, he couldn't help but wonder if they had been a trick of his fatigued mind the entire time. And as the months passed and it finally cooled down, the gravedigger forgot all about the mysterious rings of flowers.

A year passed, and the gravedigger found himself on the hilltop again on June 13th. He started early in the morning to avoid the hottest part of the day. The drought had ended, but it was still a hot summer day. He was digging a child's grave today, which was always solemn and joyless work. It wasn't until the sun was just peaking over the horizon, did the gravedigger notice the is graehflowers.

He instantly remembered the three rings from the year before, and he hurried to see if there was another piece of the puzzle. Around the shared grave were four rings of flowers. Every flower was as beautiful and unique as the time before. He was amazed. He studied the extra ring, and wondered if there was any connection to the number of years since their death, and the number of rings. Three years dead, three rings and four years dead, four rings. They had to be related. The person who was responsible for the flowers, how many years, how many rings would they go?

Years later the gravedigger was a tired old man, and he couldn't remember the last time he had dug a grave. He had returned to the hilltop with his family, to show them where he had worked during his youth. The date was June 13th, and that was no accident. He desperately wanted to see if the rings of flowers still continued to magically appear as they had unceasingly every year that he had worked there.

A tear of joy came to his eye when he arrived to find the entire hill covered with rings of flowers. He knew by now that this wasn't the work of a loved one to honor the dead; he had come to believe that these flowers were nothing short of a miracle. The gravedigger stood at the center of the rings and started and the simple headstone, wondering again about the man and woman.

**Draco Lucius Malfoy**

**June 5****th**** 1980-June 13th**** 1998**

**Hermione Jean Granger**

**July 31****st**** 1980-June 13th**** 1998**

_**Death has no sway over eternal love**_

**They showed what can be overcome by love. **

**May we never forget.**

The gravedigger never learned of what it was these lovers overcame or what had taken their lives so young. Yet he had spent every June 13th celebrating the triumph of their love.

**Thoughts? **


End file.
